


Rose Petals

by LicieOIC



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alien Rituals, Courtship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-21 22:27:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1566272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LicieOIC/pseuds/LicieOIC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enough is enough. The Doctor loves Rose and it's past time he made a move. But he decides that she deserves a proper courtship and adapts traditional Gallifreyan rituals to fit their situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a gif from a David Tennant Virgin Media ad (below), and a suggestion from Endelda: "What if performing an interpretive dance in a shower of something symbolic of your intended is a solemn courtship ritual on Gallifrey?"
> 
> Many thanks to Endelda for the prompt, and lunarsilverwolfstar, leftennant, and others who wish to remain anonymous for their contributive ideas!
> 
> Please note: There is no mind control in this fic. There is no angst in this fic. The courtship is the main theme of this fic, not emotional fallout from mind control and angst.

It was time. He’d nearly lost her again. Not just her, but the Tardis as well. The universe was clearly telling him to make the most of the time he had, because ‘curse of the Time Lords’ or not, he could still lose Rose. It was just the way of their life, it was dangerous now and again, and they couldn’t change that, not when there were people and planets out there that needed saving. A better man would take Rose home and tell her he wouldn’t risk her life anymore, but he knew he couldn’t do that. Not only would Rose not stand for it, no delicate flower was his Rose, ironically, and wouldn’t put up with him doing what he thought was best if she thought differently, but he just honestly couldn’t make himself do it. He needed her, plain and simple.

He knew about Rose’s feelings for him. Welllll… he was pretty sure. He had a fairly good idea. But it never hurt to double check. So, when they landed for their next adventure, he resolved to ask.

Standing side by side on the planet Duvoreskrag, where he’d taken her to see the flying whales (not that they were actually whales, but that was their closest Earth equivalent), he looked to his right, drinking in the sight of her in that fur-trimmed jacket, her hair loose and flowing the slight breeze, he asked,

“How long are you gonna stay with me?”

He was proud of himself. His voice hadn’t even squeaked or betrayed the slightest tremor of nerves. She looked at him, giving the full force of her copper colored gaze which metaphorically melted his insides every time.

“Forever.”

A broad smile spread across his face, which was answered with a smile of her own. Now, he knew for sure. But he couldn’t just go blundering in. Rose deserved a proper courtship. 

He thought about it for a moment. A Gallifreyan courtship held many levels, several of which were now obsolete since the planet was gone (he spared a moment for his guilt, but not too long, he had plans to make), but he thought that perhaps the steps could be adapted to fit their situation. He reached back into his long memory, it had been a long time since he’d had to recall this particular list… Even before his first regeneration.

The first instruction made him internally cringe, but he would do it. For Rose.

For the rest of the day, which included helping a lost baby Kalestor return to its pod (and enjoying a ride through the air on its back with Rose’s hair in the Doctor’s face), he planned and plotted. Obviously, he’d have to skip the ten years of celibacy, he’d already been celibate long enough for both of them and then some…


	2. Respectfully Request the Parent or Guardian’s Permission for Formal Courtship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first step in the Gallifreyan Courtship Ritual is to ask for the parent or guardian's blessing. The Doctor screws up his courage to face Jackie Tyler and profess his love for her daughter.

Rose was quite obviously surprised when he suggested visiting Jackie the next day. She blinked and stared at him the way she did when he did or said something she considered ‘mental.’ He avoided her gaze, idly playing with the zig-zig plotter on the console as he said, “I just thought… after the whole business on Krop Tor… you might want to.”

She smiled then, understanding. “You mean, after the whole prospect of never seeing my mum again?”

He nodded, still looking down. He heard her trainers on the grating and then her hand touched his arm, the warmth seeping through the layers he wore.

“To be honest,” she said, “I didn’t ask because I didn’t want you think I was running home to mum, that I regretted anything. I meant what I said. If we ever end up stuck somewhere, as long as I’m with you, it’s fine.”

He looked up, seeing the quiet sincerity on her face, and smiled, strengthening his resolve for what would come next. He set a course for the Powell Estate.

Thirty minutes into their visit, he announced from his place on the couch, “You know, Jackie, it occurs to me that you’ve never seen the inside of the Tardis. Not once in all this time.”

The two women fell silent. This time, they both did the blinking and staring. “What?” said Rose at the same time Jackie said, “You forbad it!”

“Welllll,” he said, scratching the back of his head as he looked at the ceiling, “I just meant I didn’t want to travel through time and space with a mother in tow, I do have a reputation to think of--” He abruptly cut himself off as Jackie pinned him with a turquoise glare, and he really wanted her to be amicable for the first part of his courtship plan. “Sorry, that was rude, wasn’t it? Sorry, again, but really, just think of the gossip! Anyway, you wouldn’t like it, space travel. You’d miss all your shows. But that doesn’t mean you can’t come in for a cup of tea when we visit. I mean, the Tardis is Rose’s home, no reason why you can’t see your daughter’s flat. It’s just, in this case, when I say ‘flat,’ I mean dimensionally transcendental brilliant time capsule--”

Jackie was on her feet, heading for the door to get her jacket. “I’m going before you talk yourself out of it!”

Rose stood up when he did and bumped his shoulder, affectionately.

“What?” he asked.

“You called the Tardis my home,” she said, with a soft smile.

“Well, it is,” he said, controlling his physiology so he wouldn’t blush. “I was just stating a fact.” He cleared his throat. Jackie would be in the Tardis, time for the next part of his plan; to get her alone for a while. “Tell you what, why don’t you make us all a cuppa in the galley while I give your mum a brief tour.”

Jackie was suitably impressed by the Tardis, though not as much as most visitors, since she already knew the secret to ‘bigger on the inside.’ They went with Rose as far as the archway into the galley, where Rose instantly froze in place.

“What’s happened to her?” Jackie demanded, moving forward to grab her daughter’s arm, but the Doctor held her back.

“Whoa, don’t go in there, she’s fine,” he said, holding Jackie by her shoulders.

She turned around, eyes sharp. “Well, why isn’t she moving?”

“She’s still moving,” he said. “Look.”

Jackie looked at Rose again, closely, and saw that she was indeed still in motion, just incredibly slowly. Rose’s hair was in mid-sway.

“I’ve slowed time in that room,” the Doctor explained. “I need to talk to you, and I don’t know how long it’s gonna take.”

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “What have you done this time?”

“Nothing!” he insisted, put out that she would instantly assume he’d done something wrong. “Well, nothing yet,” he amended a moment later. “Come with me. Let’s have a sit down.” She didn’t move, still looking at him suspiciously. “I promise, my intentions are good. Completely honorable.”

Jackie relented and followed him to the library, where he surrendered the most comfortable chair to her, even though she probably didn’t get the significance. She had her arms and her legs crossed, like a metaphorical double barrier that nothing would get past her. He sat down across from her, leaning his elbows on his thighs and loosely folding his hands in front of him.

“Jackie, I know you’ve had some assumptions about me and Rose,” he began, stopping as Jackie snorted, which he ignored and continued on, “but I want you to know, I’ve been completely respectful of her. She’s been the best mate I’ve ever had and I care about her more than anything. Having her with me means more than I could possibly say, and you know that’s a lot, coming from me.” He gave her a rueful grin and Jackie uncrossed her arms, no doubt sensing that this talk was more important than his usual brilliant rambles.

“I’ve realized, recently,” he went on, “that I don’t want to let old ideas and prejudices against what some thought about ‘lesser species’ affect me. The people that held those beliefs are long gone and what remains is the truth in my own feelings.” He took a deep breath. This was the hard part. He’d much rather deflect and hide behind his words and smiles, but Rose deserved a man who would announce how he felt proudly.

“I’m in love with your daughter,” he said, and paused, waiting for the gasp of shock or look of surprise… but it didn’t come. Jackie merely lifted an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. “I wanted to have this private talk in order to ask for your blessing to formally court Rose.” He waited again, but still no response like he’d predicted. It was throwing him off. He pulled on his ear. “Um… please?” he finished up, lamely.

“Well, it’s about time,” said Jackie, crossing her legs the other way.

He hadn’t been expecting that. All his mathematical predictions on Jackie Tyler’s reactions to this news (fourteen of which included a slap) had been wrong and that knowledge staggered him. Of course, that was a human for you. Adds in that little extra factor a Time Lord can’t account for every time.

“What?” he asked, his voice going a bit high pitched.

“Of _course_ I knew there was nothing going on, you git,” she said, rolling her eyes. “How could I _not_ know, when my daughter was complaining about you not picking up any of her hints every time you brought her for a visit.” She paused. “Though, I have to say, I wasn’t expecting this. It’s a bit old fashioned, isn’t it?”

He frowned. “I thought you’d appreciate me being up front about it…”

“Oh, I am,” she said. “Honestly, I’m impressed. But even so.” She put a palm to her forehead, chuckling. “An alien for a son-in-law… What am I gonna tell everyone?”

“Tell them what you’ve told them about her traveling, only that… you know… we’re together,” he said, a bit awkwardly. He’d much prefer that Jackie _didn’t_ go around telling everyone she knew, but he figured there was no hope for that. “That is,” he added, “if she’ll have me.”

“She will, don’t you go worrying about that,” said Jackie, waving a hand. Suddenly, her gaze narrowed again. “But what about grandchildren?”

He felt his stomach bottom out. “What?” he said again, his voice even squeakier than before.

“If Rose is going to be with you, where do kids fit into the picture? I know what your life is like, but that doesn’t mean you get to cheat her out of being a mum!”

The Doctor swallowed and blinked several times before composing himself for his answer. “Jackie,” he said seriously, “if you know what our life is like, then you know that children really don’t fit into it. Besides, I’m not even sure if we’re compatible that way.” Genetics aside, there was a dodgy sterility curse to consider. “And even if we were, it’s obviously not something we’ve ever talked about.” He shrugged. “Would I mind being a father to Rose’s children? Of course not. I’d be honored.” Even if the thought was a bit terrifying, it was exhilarating as well. “But it’s not like it’s something that _needs_ to happen in order to prove how we feel about each other. Anyway, I can’t really give you a definitive answer because it would be Rose’s decision. She’s the one who’d carry the pregnancy.”

“So, if she wanted to have kids,” said Jackie, slowly, “then you wouldn’t tell her no just because of all this?” She encompassed the whole of the Tardis with a gesture.

“Of course I wouldn’t,” he said. “There’s nothing I would deny Rose if I could give it to her.” He thought about it for a moment. “If it’s really something she wanted, I guess we’d take a break from saving the universe for a while. And then… well, if we found ourselves in a place where things could get sticky, we’ll pop back to the Tardis and drop the kids off with our favorite babysitter, then go back.”

He smiled at Jackie, to let her know he was including her in the scenario. He knew it wouldn’t always be that simple, but as far as the argument went for a hypothetical situation that he hadn’t even discussed with Rose yet, it would do. He didn’t think the Tardis would let him pilot her somewhere if there were children involved that could get hurt.

Jackie nodded, satisfied with his answer. “All right then. You have my… blessing, permission, whatever, to court my daughter. Mind, you treat her well. And if there’s a wedding, I’d better be allowed to help plan it!”

The Doctor almost admired Jackie’s ability to get ahead of herself. He reached out for her, placing her pink manicured hand between both of his. “I am honored by your trust,” he said, completing the formal verbal contract.

Feeling quite pleased that this first step had gone so well (especially considering the number of scenarios he’d predicted that ended badly), he stood up, helping Jackie to her feet. “What do you say we go back to the galley for a cuppa? That room should be back to normal now, and we just picked up the _best_ biscuits from Allegrant 4.”

She threaded her arm through the Doctor’s as they left the library, but said, “I’m not eating any alien food, thank you very much!”

If Rose was confused by Jackie’s sly, smug looks toward her and the Doctor for the rest of the visit, she didn’t say anything.


	3. A Day To Show Your Beloved You Intend To Provide For Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the next part of the Courtship Ritual, the Doctor plans a day where Rose will only eat food prepared by his hands.

The Doctor’s next step was old fashioned even by Gallifreyan standards, but was considered a quaint tradition; a day where only food prepared by your own hands would pass your intended’s lips, to show that you would provide for their basic needs.

The first meal was easy. Rose slept so late, it was only a matter of calculating when she’d near the end of her sleep cycle, and then have the Tardis vent the scent of tea and breakfast into her room. About five minutes after that, she appeared, still in her jim jams and adorably tousled, with her skin still warm and smelling of sleep.

She blinked at the sight of him in a pink apron over his usual suit, sans jacket, with his shirtsleeves rolled up. She spent a good minute just staring at his forearms. He might have preened a little bit, his arms were quite manly, sprinkled with dark hair and all, but then, the staring could have been because Rose tended to move a bit slowly before her first cuppa.

He gallantly escorted her to the table, which was set for two with pink willow china, and pulled out her chair, wishing her a hearty good morning (since they’d established that ‘morning’ was whenever Rose woke up). He set before her a plate of eggs and bacon, which he cracked fresh pepper over and sprinkled with sea salt, a short stack of blueberry pancakes with maple syrup, two triangles of toast with butter and marmalade, and a teacup with her tea prepared just the way she liked it, pale and sweet.

She looked at the pair of yellow tulips in the bud vase between the two settings, then at the food, then at him. She held up a finger, indicating he should forestall any talking, then took a large gulp of tea. She closed her eyes and breathed out a heavy ‘ahhh.’ The Doctor smiled, happy he’d brought that look of satisfaction to Rose’s face. Then, she set the cup down and looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

“What’s all this about, then?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” he asked, calmly breaking his egg yolks with his fork.

“You usually only do this when I’m not feeling well.” Her eyes widened minutely. “I’m not sick, am I? I didn’t pick something deadly up on some planet and you just haven’t told me yet?”

He chuckled. “No, you’re absolutely fine, Rose. Better than fine, you’re perfect. Molto bene!”

“Okay,” she said, slowly, then picked up a piece of toast to nibble on. “Then, why’d you make breakfast?”

He shrugged. “Can’t a Time Lord make breakfast for his favorite human once in a while?”

He’d decided that he should probably hold off on telling her about the courting for as long as possible. Because, knowing Rose, she’d probably say something like, ‘I don’t need any fancy courtship rituals, you daft alien!’ And whether she needed it or not, the Doctor felt she deserved it, and a bit of pampering never hurt anyone.

“Well, all right,” she said, taking another gulp of tea which produced another happy sigh. “As long as this isn’t a preemptive apology for something we’re about to do.”

“Only if I have to apologize for taking you to a tropical island paradise,” he said, smugly, a grin splitting his face as her eyes lit up.

This was strategic, of course. He couldn’t take her someplace that had restaurants and other eateries, Rose always like to sample the local food if it was safe for her. So today, he’d piloted them to a planet before it had been discovered, completely unspoiled by people, with only friendly beasts making up the population. Lunch was already packed in a wicker hamper with a large, soft blanket to sit on.

And he’d get to see Rose in her bikini, which was not _quite_ so strategic and more of a side benefit.

He shook his head slightly as he was pulled from his musings when Rose began to rise from the table. She hadn’t finished eating yet, so he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, pointing at the refrigerator. “Just getting some juice.”

He dropped his fork in an instant. “I’ll get it!” he cried, banging his knee on the bottom of the table in his haste to get to the fridge before her. He knew this would be challenging, keeping Rose from getting her own food all day. He muttered a Gallifreyan curse and rubbed his poor knee as he bent over to look inside at their choices. “Apple, orange, guava, or pomegranate?” he asked. “Or I suppose I could make a mix of some kind if you can’t decide…”

Rose didn’t answer. He looked over his shoulder and caught her ogling his bum. He wiggled his eyebrows at her and her face went beet red. She averted her gaze instantly, fixing her eyes on her plate. “Um… orange,” she mumbled.

He poured her a tall glass, which he set next to her teacup, then sat back down across from her. He smiled knowingly as he ate, thinking back to New Earth when Cassandra had been inside his head and told Rose ‘you’ve been looking, you _like_ it.’ Apparently, the ‘looking’ wasn’t just because his body had been new, if she was still doing it. He knew the smiling irked her, because she shoveled the food in her mouth as though she had a vendetta against it.

She got her revenge later, however, when she appeared in the console room wearing her itsy Tardis blue bikini and a mostly sheer mauve sarong tied low on her hips. Then the ogling was on the other foot… so to speak.

Well… until _he_ stripped off his suit to reveal his white swim trunks with tiny brown pinstripes. He was an equal opportunity ogler.

They took turns jumping off of a good-sized waterfall into a perfectly aqua colored lagoon ringed with that planet’s equivalent of palm trees (the fronds looked like they had blue fringe). He grinned as Rose applauded his expert swan dive, and didn’t do more than sputter when she splashed him with a cannon ball. All right, well, he _did_ swim-chase her around the lagoon and grab her, tickling her ribs so that she squirmed against him. Which prompted a fresh round of tickling, because he’d discovered that wet Rose-breasts clad in a bikini top and pressed up against him were even nicer than dry, clothed Rose-breasts (though he was planning on testing that later, to be sure. For science!).

With all her wiggling, however, one tiny triangle of her top’s fabric shifted a little too much and she yelped, her hands flying to her chest to cover herself. The Doctor stopped the shenanigans at once, looking straight up at the yellow sky.

“You didn’t-- _see_ anything, did you?” she asked, breathlessly.

“No.”

He was lying. He’d seen the plump pink nipple, just begging to be inside his mouth. He kept his hands still on her waist and his eyes on the sky as she adjusted her top, not wanting her to be embarrassed. He focused on keeping the blood flow in his body regulated, when it stubbornly wanted to rush to one particular body part.

“It wouldn’t be a big deal if I had, though, right, Rose?” he asked, his voice a little high pitched. “I mean, you have lovely breasts, on some planets, it’s very commonplace to compliment someone’s mammary glands. Have I never told you I think you have a pair of quality breasts? Really superior, top notch!” His face heated up a bit. “You can… stop me anytime.”

She giggled. “You can look now.”

He leveled his gaze and smiled (even though the top was sadly back in place).

“And, um… Thanks,” she added, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“No, thank _you,”_ he said, waggling his eyebrows with another glance at her cleavage. It earned him a thwack in the arm and he let go of her to rub it, feigning hurt. “What? It’s a _compliment!”_

When Rose grew tired of swimming, he went to shore to lay out the blanket for them. He looked back to see if she was following and caught her looking at his bum again, this time with her cheeks already pink. He looked down and realized that white swim trunks, when wet, were nearly see-through. Oh. He probably should have known that would happen.

Ah, well. Too late now, better to just carry on. He swaggered over to the wicker hamper and pulled out the blanket, which was made of a special material that would cushion the ground and help them dry off without soaking it. He knelt on top of it to unpack the rest of the hamper, but looked up in time to see Rose rising out of the lagoon.

He swallowed hard. Little rivulets of water chased each other down her body, following the curves of her breasts, stomach, legs. He wanted to follow each little stream with his tongue. She looked like a siren as she swung her hair off of her shoulders, flinging little droplets everywhere. A nymph, no, a water goddess, coming to claim a mortal slave. He bit his lip so that the next words out of his mouth wouldn’t be ‘yes, please, mistress.’ Was she moving in slow motion, or was that just his imagination?

She plopped down beside him on the blanket. Ah. Just his imagination then. A moment he would replay in his mind’s eye many times, he was certain. He busied himself with passing her a plate of fruit, sandwiches, and crisps that he’d baked himself, along with a flute of sparkling lemonade.

They laid side by side, snacking as they slowly dried off in the non-harmful rays of the white sun, discussing the shapes of the clouds and the stories that the images evoked from their travels. He loved reminiscing with Rose. After meeting Sarah Jane, he’d made a point of telling her about his past travels and other companions. He tended to stick to the good memories… some of them hurt.

Rose sat up to drink her lemonade, shaking her head at him once she’d finished. “You look so odd, like that,” she said, making him blink.

He also sat up and looked about himself. Sure, he wasn’t wearing his suit, but other than that, he didn’t see anything amiss. “Like what?” he asked, finally.

“You hair,” she said, pointing.

He touched it. When he’d come up out of the water, he’d just run his hands through it, slicking it back. He supposed it _would_ look quite a bit different than his usual style of ‘I wake up looking this amazing.’ He chuckled. “I guess you’re right.” Bending his head down a bit and leaning toward her, he asked, “Would you care to do the honors?”

“Really?” she asked, sounding surprised.

“Sure,” he said, gesturing at his head. “Have at.”

She touched his head with first one hand, then both, ruffling his nearly dry hair and running her fingernails lightly across his scalp. A soft moan, nearly a purr, escaped him, but it only seemed to encourage her. She took her time in arranging his hair to her satisfaction, and he didn’t mind at all. In fact, he was fine with her continuing indefinitely.

Of course, she did stop eventually, nodding to herself. “Don’t have any product to hand, so it’s not quite right, but it looks much better now.”

He straightened, smiling at her. “Thank you! I should have you do that more often.”

She laughed. “You haven’t even seen it!”

“No need,” he said, puffing out his chest a bit. “Each hair follicle is sending a message directly to my brain, telling me that Rose Tyler has put it in its optimum place.”

She laughed again, but her smile told him she was pleased with the compliment. He laid back down and held out one arm for her, patting his shoulder to indicate that she should lie next to him. She lifted her eyebrows, but cuddled up to him, placing one hand on his chest as he curled his arm around her back. He started talking about the next places he wanted them to visit, going off on a few interesting tangents here and there. After an hour, he noticed that Rose had stopped making agreeing noises and looked down to see she’d fallen asleep.

He smiled. Resting his cheek on top of her head, he looked at the sky and planned their dinner. He thought a movie marathon with lots of popcorn and ice cream sundaes might do the trick. If he let her choose the movies, he’d have the excuse to make the food. Plus, movies always meant more cuddling. And Rose always wore those little camisoles and sleep shorts on their movie nights, which was less strategic... and more of a side benefit.


	4. A Composition to Honor Your Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor struggles with coming up with a composition worthy of his love for Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next were originally one chapter, but chapter five ended up being so much longer, so it was awkward to have them together since they didn't flow into one another at all. In the end, I let them be separate, but I'll post them both today so no one feels disappointed by this short chapter. ^_^

For the next three nights, while Rose slept, the Doctor wracked his considerable brain, trying to create a sonnet or song for her to fulfill the next part of the ritual. The problem was, he found that most of his attempts sounded like the lyrics to “I’m Gonna Be” by the Proclaimers.

_When I waketh, aye, when I do wake me,_   
_I wilt be who doth wake up next to thee._   
_When I goeth enchaf'd, ho, I wilt be_   
_The one who gaily goeth forth with thee._

Brilliant song, but the Courtship Ritual declared that it had to be written by the Doctor, or at least commissioned by him, and sadly, he couldn’t risk the paradox of going back in time to get the duo to write it for Rose. And apparently, as the Bard had once penned, the Doctor was not ‘born under a rhyming planet.’

On the fourth night, surrounded by the crumpled leavings of his lack of inspiration, pulling at his hair because of the massive headache he’d brought on, it hit him. He couldn’t get an _existing_ song to be written for Rose, but he could get a composer to create something _new_. Muttering about his thick head, he went to the console room and headed for Vienna in 1787. In return for introducing him to Mozart, Beethoven agreed to write the Doctor a sonata.

After working out the details with the young musician, the Doctor skipped ahead in the timeline to when it was completed and brought Rose the next day to the performing of the piece, _Für Die Rosen Braut_. It translated to ‘For the Rose Bride,’ but the Doctor told her the title was ‘A Time For Commitment.’ It was _his_ commissioned piece, he could call it what he wanted.

Rose was very impressed with the seventeen year old prodigy, but was verbally even more so with the Doctor, to his delight. He’d chosen this time to dress for the occasion, donning a Viennese court costume of teal Chinese silk that complemented Rose’s pale green gown perfectly. Though he’d drawn the line at the powdered wig. Like he’d actually cover up his fantastic hair.

“You never dress up on adventures,” she said, placing her hand on his arm as he led her to the other side of the room, away from the chairs that were set up to listen to Beethoven play. “What changed your mind?”

“I didn’t want us to stand out,” he explained, “so I could do this.”

He turned her around and she found that he’d brought her over to where there were couples lined up for dancing sets. Her jaw dropped and he grinned as she realized they were going to dance. Her gobsmacked expression quickly turned to one of panic as the music started up again and she dropped into a hasty curtsy as the other women did.

“I don’t know this dance!” she hissed at him.

He winked at her, thinking of another time and place where he’d had the chance to dance with Rose and had squandered it. Not this time. “Don’t worry,” he said, holding out his hand for her. “I’ve got the moves. Just follow my lead.”

She caught her tongue in the corner of her smile. “Oh, you’re _finally_ gonna show me your moves?” she teased.

_“Some_ of them,” he said, emulating the smouldering look he’d given her in that basement during World War II all that time ago. His chest swelled with pleasure at her blush.

The dancing didn’t last long, however, as the Doctor introduced the crowd to the Viennese Waltz about a dozen years too early, and they were kicked out for indecency. Still, it had been worth it, to hold Rose so close as he spun them about the room.

She insisted that they traipse around Vienna for the rest of the day, just so she could get the most out of seeing him in fancy dress. He was fairly certain she snuck a picture of him on her super phone and then stuffed the device down her bodice. It took every ounce of restraint, and clasping his hands behind his back, to prevent himself from diving in after it. It might’ve raised a few questions he wasn’t ready to answer.


	5. The Humbling of the Suitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor humbles himself before Rose with the next part of the Courtship Ritual, the washing of the feet, putting the pleasure of his intended before his own. He didn't plan for things to get out of hand...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW!

After their next few adventures, which included a planet of neverending rain, a slog through bug-infested sticky mired swamps, and a race through a desert at the risk of their lives (though that fulfilled another part of the ritual, the shouldering of burdens, as he’d ended up having to carry Rose on his back for at least half of the race), the Doctor seized the opportunity to follow the next part of the ritual. He had to humble himself before his intended. He directed the Tardis into the Vortex, then turned to Rose, who was peeling her dusty jacket off with a grimace.

“I’ve been working you pretty hard lately, haven’t I?” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind a day in,” she said.

“Tell you what, I want to show you something. A special room in the Tardis. Why don’t you go shower and I’ll meet you outside your room.” He held up a hand. “It’ll be nothing but relaxation, I promise. No adventuring for twenty-four hours at least.”

She smiled and nodded. “All right, then. Give me ten minutes.”

He gave her twenty while he showered and changed into some fresh pinstriped trousers and a dark blue henley. He still had to wait in the hall for an extra five, but he didn’t mind. When she emerged, she was rosy pink from the hot water, dressed in a vest top and sleep shorts, with slightly damp hair. He grinned and offered his hand, which she took with a smile, and he led her down the hallway to the room he’d had the Tardis prepare.

It was a soft cream color, with accents of maroon. Candles set into recesses in the walls threw warm light toward the ceiling, which was domed, leading up to a chandelier made up of little glass orbs that each held a sparkling light. The room held a plush white reclining chair with a small tub near the foot, and a cushioned table with a pillow and sheet on top of it. Rose gaped. The Doctor  really was coming to enjoy her expressions of shock.

“Doctor,” she said, after clearing her throat. “Are you giving me a spa day?”

“Complaints?”

“None!”

Grinning, he helped her into the reclining chair and gently lowered her bare feet into the tub which was full of warm, scented water and sprinkled with flower petals. He pulled up a stool and sat on it, settling himself so that the tub with her feet in it was between his legs, then turned his focus to the tray of products on the floor next to him.

He carefully selected a scrub that smelled of vanilla and set to work, solemnly washing Rose’s feet. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the pillowed rest, so she didn’t see his serious expression as he rubbed and caressed her legs, polishing her skin with the different products. He knew she was enjoying it by the low, growly moans she was making, but he focused inwardly, rather than let himself bask in those sounds. This task was about being humble and putting his beloved above himself, about _her_ pleasure, not his.

After rinsing her feet and legs, he grabbed a small jeweled case from the tray, holding it in both hands and taking a deep breath as he lifted the lid. The Doctor possessed a few artifacts from Gallifrey on the Tardis (some lost to the various rooms), and this was one of them. He could think of no finer purpose for this artifact, no better way to show Rose his great respect for her, than to file her toenails with the Nail File of Rassilon.

The file faintly glowed as he lifted it from its case. He set the jeweled box aside and lifted Rose’s left foot to the edge of the tub, expertly and reverently filing down each of her toenails to the perfect shape. She might not get the significance at the moment, but it brought him great joy, to see a mighty relic of his people being used to add to the beauty of his most precious human.

He rinsed her feet once more, then dried them with a soft, fluffy towel. Rose lifted her head and gave him a sleepy, satisfied smile.

“I think that was the best pedicure I’ve ever had!”

“Well, we’re not done yet,” he said, holding out both hands to help her up. “I have everything set up for the best massage you’ll ever have.” He gestured over to the table and Rose’s cheeks tinged pink as she looked at the sheet and guessed its purpose. He pulled on his ear. “Um… you know, if you want.”

She bit her lip, then seemed to come to a decision. “Turn around?”

He faced the wall, swallowing hard as he heard the sounds of fabric moving, fighting the urge to peek. He’d just seen her in a bikini a short time ago (and the resulting nipple-slip), and yet he still burned to see her completely nude. His sense told him it wasn’t entirely logical, and his libido told his sense to shut up.

“Okay, ready,” came her voice, breaking through his warring thoughts.

He turned to see a blushing Rose laying face down on the massage table with the sheet covering her from shoulders to calves. Half of her face was hidden in the pillow at the head of the table, but one eye was still watching him warily, as though she expected him to announce he was kidding her all along.

His throat worked as he moved over to her, gently folding back the sheet to reveal her torso. He nearly swallowed his tongue as the side of one breast came into view, squished against the cushy table. All that prevented his eyes from devouring completely naked Rose was a flimsy white sheet. She only had to turn and let it slip and...

He coughed once, concentrating on determining what constellations most resembled her moles and tiny freckles on her back as he unscrewed the lid on a jar of lotion. The scent of lemons drifted up to him, helping to clear his head somewhat.

_‘This is about_ her _pleasure,_ not _mine,’_ he sternly reminded himself. _‘Humble, modest, humility... Humble thoughts in, naughty thoughts out...’_

At least his intentions were good, but all humble thoughts flew away as he began massaging her back with his strong, agile fingers and palms, and Rose began emitting the most _sinful_ sounds of pleasure. In all his thousand-odd years of life, he’d never heard _anything_ so decadent. If she’d been moaning before when he’d taken care of her feet, these were definitely more like groans, and _so_ close to what he imagined she’d sound like during _other_ physical acts. Superior physiology or not, his body began to respond to her, to the silken feel of her warm, lotion-slick skin under his hands, the proximity to her nakedness, and most of all to the sounds of sheer sex she uttered.

As he leaned over the table, he pressed his pelvis against the side of it, trying to relieve himself somewhat with a bit of friction, and a soft whimper escaped him. Rose’s visible eye opened and he froze momentarily.

“You alright, Doctor?” she asked, her voice low and much too sultry.

Even his hum of assent was squeaky. He wasn’t sure he would be able to complete her massage without her noticing how very, _very_ turned on he was. Perhaps it was time to tell her about the Courtship Ritual… He reasoned that the next steps would make more sense to her if she knew about it, anyway.

“Rose,” he said, and in trying to keep his voice from squeaking again, it came out rough and husky. “Have you been wondering at all about the, um… _unusual_ things we’ve been doing lately?”

“Could you be a little more specific?” she asked, grinning.

He conceded her point with a smile. “Going back to inviting your mum onboard,” he suppressed a shudder, “my cooking you breakfast, a picnic lunch, and then dinner in the media room, me dressing up in britches and dancing to Beethoven, giving you a piggyback ride through the desert, and now this.” He swept his hands down her back to emphasize his words, his thumbs along her spine, the tips of his fingers almost, _almost_ brushing the sides of her breasts.

Her breath caught. “I, uh… will admit, this one took me by the most surprise.”

“Why?”

“Well…” She cleared her throat as he kept massaging her and he saw her feet turn in towards one another, fidgeting with her toes. “Doing odd things, that’s kinda what we _do_. And for some of it… well, I just thought you were trying to change things up, do the unexpected. But this is… um, it’s… sorta intimate. And you normally… stay away from that type of thing.”

“Mmm,” he agreed. “But do you know _why_ I normally stay away from intimacy?”

She squirmed a bit, avoiding looking at him with her one visible eye. “Well, I just assumed… you don’t _do_ that sort of thing. That you didn’t want to give me the wrong idea.”

“Actually, Rose, I was trying to avoid giving you the _right_ idea.”

She stilled. “What?”

“Thick head, remember?” he said, ruefully. “Humans wither and die and I’m left alone, curse of the Time Lords, all that rubbish?” He paused. “And then I said, ‘imagine that happening to someone you--’” He swallowed and licked his lips, his stomach turning itself in knots. He got the feeling that Rose might be holding her breath, too. “The end of that sentence was ‘love,’ Rose.”

“No,” she said, sharply.

He straightened up, pulling his hands away in his shock. He felt like a Sontaran had just punched him in the gut. He’d been so sure… but despite even what Jackie had said, what if Rose didn’t actually love him back?

“What?” he asked, his voice choked.

She reached down and grabbed the sheet, clutching it to her as she rolled and sat up. She shoved her hair out of her face with her free hand, frowning at him, but hurt was shining in her eyes. “I know you know how I feel about you,” she said, tersely. “I thought you’d just carry on like normal, to spare my feelings. But this!” She poked a finger at his chest and he rocked back on his heels, then forward again. “I don’t want your pity, Doctor!”

Pity? She thought he pitied her? His brain whirled, trying to accept this foreign concept, while also trying to think of a way that would convince her otherwise. It was difficult to do, since the sheet she held to her chest still didn’t provide much in the way of coverage, and though his ardor had cooled somewhat during this exchange, quite a bit of blood was still flowing to his lower appendage, hindering his ability to think.

In a sudden flash of insight or madness, or both, he grabbed her free hand and pressed her palm to the front of his trousers. “Does _this_ feel like pity, Rose?”

She gasped and tried to pull her hand away, but he held her firm. Unable to get away and faced with the truth of his statement (or at least the truth of his lust for her), she lowered her eyes to their hands and his trousers. His breath shuddered out of him as she moved her fingers, exploring his length, which almost immediately was painfully hard again. His eyes fluttered shut of their own volition and he whimpered, her warmth seeping through the layers of his clothing. He was going to have to stop her before he shot off in his pants like a kid in his nineties, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it just yet. After so long, fantasizing to thoughts of her with his own hand, to actually experience her touch blew even the most fervent imaginings away.

Very reluctantly, he pulled her hand away from him and brought it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste her palm. His eyes had darkened to almost black when he opened them to look at her again. “In case there was any doubt,” he said in a low voice, his lips moving against her skin, “I do _not_ pity you.” He lowered her hand, but kept hold of it, his thumbs stroking along the back. “All these things I’ve been doing… I’ve been courting you, Rose. I’ve been in love with you since-- well, since ‘run,’ really. I just decided to stop being daft about it. I’m done letting my fear and cowardice and excuses about some stodgy society that doesn’t even exist anymore get in my way.”

Tears were shimmering on the fringe of her lashes. “Why didn’t you just _tell_ me you were doing this weird courting thing?”

“It’s not weird!” he said, defensively. “The Courtship Ritual is a very solemn thing! It was quite rare on Gallifrey, since most matches were political, the ritual was done for love matches, to prove that the love was genuine!” He looked down at their hands, speaking more softly now. “And I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d say you didn’t want it. You deserve to be properly courted, Rose. Actually, you deserve a lot _more_ than that.” He looked up again, his expression almost apologetic. “You deserve so much better than me. But I’m selfish enough to want to keep you for my own.”

“Oh, you nutter,” she muttered. Tugging her hand free, she cupped his face. He squeaked because she’d let go of the sheet and it pooled in her lap, revealing her gorgeous breasts. Rose, however, ignored it and pulled his head down to lean her forehead against his. “When will you ever learn that it’s _me_ who decides what I need?”

She tilted her head and kissed him. His eyes fell shut, cutting off his view of her breasts, sadly, but allowing him to revel in the satin pillow softness of her lips. A growl escaped him as he wrapped his arms around her, tugging her to the very edge of the table. Her legs parted, allowing him closer, fitting him into the cradle of her hips. Her mouth opened on a moan as he rutted against her, feeling how hot she was, even through layers of fabric, he took the opportunity to taste her, stroking her tongue with his. A muffled sigh left him through his nose as her kiss sent frissons of sensation tripping down his spine.

He startled when he felt her hands fumbling at the fastening to his trousers. “Rose,” he said, pulling back from her lips. “You don’t-- we don’t--” He struggled to think past the haze of arousal and his disappointment that they were no longer kissing. “This isn’t how I planned this--”

“Shut up,” she told him, shoving his trousers down past his hips. “Enough talking, need you now.”

He gasped as she slipped her hand into his pants and wrapped her fingers around his hard length. A ragged cry tore from his throat as she stroked him, skin on skin, the feeling so different, so much _better_ , than anything he’d imagined. She was right, the time for talking was over.

Their arms bumped into each other as he grabbed at the sheet in her lap and Rose attempted to pull down his pants, only to have the waistband catch on his rigid cock. The logical thing would be to disconnect and see to ridding themselves of the hindrances, but the Doctor wasn’t thinking very logically at the moment. He pulled the sheet up, hand over hand, finally throwing it over his shoulder, as she eased the waistband over his erection.

He hissed in a breath as he came in direct contact with her slick heat for the first time. He rubbed himself along her slit, nudging the taut bud at the top and earning a gasp from Rose. He could feel her heartbeat pulsing in that tiny organ which would give her so much pleasure. His breath stopped completely as he sank into her, relishing the feel of each inch being lovingly, tightly encased. A long, high pitched sigh soared out of Rose as he gripped her hips firmly, plunging in the rest of the way. She lay back on her hands as he leaned forward over her, ducking his head to capture one of her nipples the way he’d longed to back on the beach.

He set a slow, steady pace for them and she keened, loudly and continuously, as they found their rhythm together, interspersed with short, nonsensical cries for ‘more’ and ‘Doctor’ and ‘harder.’ The sound of her pealing shouts and seeing her so uninhibited excited him, swelling his chest with male pride, knowing she was enjoying it so much and it was because of him. Ironically, she wasn’t making the low, moaning, groaning sounds that she had when he was massaging her. He’d thought she’d been making sex noises before… well, she’d proven him wrong yet again. Rose was, evidently, a screamer.

Good thing they were on the Tardis. No neighbors to worry about.

She grabbed him by the hair at the back of his head and pulled him away from her breasts for a savage kiss, nipping at his lower lip and sucking it into her mouth. She continued to make muffled sounds while their tongues were busy, and he gripped the edge of the table, pounding into her harder. He revelled in the sound of slapping flesh, the feel of velvet covered steel gripping him, the sweet scent of her pheromones making him lightheaded. All at once, her head fell back and her fingers in his hair tightened almost painfully.

A long, passionate scream erupted from Rose as her muscles went rigid and her sex contracted around him, tipping him over the edge into his own orgasm. A fresh wave of wetness helped him along and he moved faster, erratically, as he spilled himself into her with a low groan. He wrapped one arm around her, burying his face against her neck, as he shuddered with the force of their passion.

He held her there for several moments, allowing his racing hearts to calm, feeling each of her heaving breaths against his chest. She stilled, and then gave a great sigh, deflating slightly as she did so, and he let her sag against the table, gently withdrawing from her as she lay down on her side. He leaned heavily on the table, his legs feeling suspiciously wobbly. He could hardly be faulted for that, it had been ages since his last shag, and to have one with _Rose_ , wellllll… He counted himself lucky that he hadn’t passed out from sheer ecstasy.

When he felt he could bend over without seeing stars, he retrieved the sheet from the floor and quickly cleaned himself up with it. He looked back at Rose, who didn’t seem inclined to move, and smiled gently. Setting the sheet down on the end of the table, he bent down, resting his head on the cushion next to hers. The position was awkward, folded in half as he was, still on his feet, but in the happy glow of their lovemaking, he couldn’t bring himself to mind.

He smoothed a hand over her shoulder, brushing aside her hair. “Hello,” he said, softly.

Her hands were curled near her face, like a sleeping child, partially obscuring her smile as she said, “Hello.” Her voice was a bit rough. Unsurprising, given the amount of screaming she’d done in the last few minutes.

“All right?”

She closed her eyes briefly, humming as though devouring a delicious treat. “More than.” She looked at him again, and he could see the flicker of anxiety. “You?”

He leaned in and kissed her, to dispel any nervousness she had. “Bloody brilliant.”

She cleared her throat, bringing some clarity back to her tone. “I think you should tell me more about this Courtship Ritual.”

“Oh?”

She bit her lip, giving him a flirtatious look as she reached out and traced his cheek. “I find myself suddenly fascinated.”

He grinned. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Great.” She yawned. “Hmm… Not right now, though, yeah? A certain Time Lord tired me out.” She smiled when she saw his apologetic look. “I think he ought to consider doing it more often.”

That was his Rose, always reassuring him.

She sat up and he straightened along with her, stretching backward to get the kinks out of his spine. She grabbed the sheet and he discreetly avoided watching her as she wiped the wetness from her thighs. He took the opportunity to pull his pants and trousers back up, which had fallen around his calves. She squealed as he scooped her into his arms, rather than let her get down from the table and collect her clothing.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked as he walked out of the room.

“Bedroom,” he said, as though it should have been obvious. “My little human is knackered.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, seemingly content to remain naked, which pleased him infinitely. “I love the way you say ‘little human’ like I shouldn’t be offended. ‘You little humans with your little brains,’” she said, in a mocking Northern accent.

“Oi!” He frowned, but conceded her point. “Maybe I did insult species a _bit_ much back when I was old Big Ears.”

“Back _then?”_ she scoffed. “Well, I guess you admitting it at all is a step forward.” She lifted her head as he turned a corner. “My bedroom was back there,” she said, pointing behind them.

“I know.”

“Are we not going to my bedroom, then?”

“Nope.” He delightedly popped his ‘p.’

“Ooooh.”


	6. An Interpretive Dance In A Shower Of Something Symbolic Of Your Intended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor dances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we have the title chapter! I really love how this turned out, I hope you do, too.
> 
> There is a little bit of NSFW stuff in the last paragraph.

Rose awoke after a two hour kip in the Doctor’s bed. He’d plaited her hair (how he’d managed two perfect french braids while she slept was a feat) and changed his clothes while he waited. They had tea in bed as he took his time explaining what he’d done to honor the ritual so far. How the day where he cooked or prepared all her food symbolized his intent to provide for her, the ride on his back symbolized how he would help to shoulder her burdens like they were his own, the sonata because their love was something worthy of accolades, washing her feet and seeing to her relaxation to humble himself before her. She seemed particularly impressed that he’d faced Jackie, though she was quick to point out that she didn’t need her mum’s permission to take their relationship to the next level. He agreed, that it was more about the respect for Jackie that he’d asked for her blessing.

“All right, but what I _really_ want to know is,” she said, eyeing him up and down. “What’s with this outfit?”

He looked down at himself, pouting a bit. “You mean, it isn’t obvious?”

“If it was, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Good point.” He stood up from where he’d been sitting on the edge of the bed and held out his arms slightly. “Well, you should recognize the boots and dark wash jeans,” he said, shaking one leg. They were the shoes and trousers he’d been wearing when he’d regenerated, though he’d taken some time while Rose slept to polish the boots to a rare shine.

“I thought so, yeah,” she said with a smile. “And I recognize the white Oxford.”

He’d kept on one of his shirts, without a tie, but over that he was wearing a very dark navy suit jacket with a couple of buttons done up. He ran his hands down the front, smoothing it. “Well, I wanted to create kind of a… merging of my last self and this self. The leather didn’t feel quite right, but this… It’s like my other jackets, but dark and plain like the old jacket.” He shrugged. “I wanted to show that you’re just as important to me, then, as you are now. Guess I didn’t succeed in the intent.”

“No, no,” she said at once. “I just didn’t get it. Little human brain, remember?” She grinned as he rolled his eyes. “But now that you’ve told me… It’s really sweet. So, I take it this is part of the ritual?”

“This is just the window dressing for the next part of the ritual,” he said. He turned and grabbed her robe, which was hanging from a coat rack by the door. He’d fetched it for her while she’d been asleep. “If I might escort you to your room, we can get you into some clothes as well.” He wiggled his eyebrows as she left the bed and allowed him to help her into the robe. “Although, if you’d rather not, I’d _completely_ understand--”

She smacked him in the arm and stuck out her tongue before heading out, not waiting for him to follow. He jogged a few steps to catch her up.

Surprisingly, she made him wait outside while she changed, which he thought was odd, considering. But understanding dawned when she emerged from the room dressed in jeans and a familiar Union Jack t-shirt. He did what he’d wanted to do the first time he’d seen that shirt. He crossed to her a few strides, cupped her face, and kissed her breathless.

For a few seconds, he allowed himself to bask in the remembrance of his younger self… The man torn by war and broken from the loss of his people, given new life (at first metaphorically, later, literally) through this young human girl. Seeing the universe through her eyes had saved him from grief, had made him care whether or not his next adventure would be the one to do him in permanently.

He could almost feel the growl in the back of his throat from that gruff voice he’d had, the weight of the battered leather coat on his shoulders. He had a feeling, somehow, that if old ‘Big Ears’ were here, he’d be crossing his arms, rolling his eyes at his latest regeneration, and muttering, “About time.”

Perhaps his younger self and Jackie Tyler had more in common than he’d originally thought.

He pulled back and grinned down at Rose, loving the look of her lips right after he’d kissed them. “Fantastic,” he whispered, and she blushed.

Taking her hand, he started down the corridor with her in tow, away from the console room. He led her deeper into the ship, to a room he’d had the Tardis build just for this part of the ritual.

A small round table sat just outside the new door. On it was a bud vase, holding two long stemmed red roses. He took them both, kissed one, and handed it to her, then opened the door and ushered her inside. The room was fairly plain, mostly white, with a tile floor and industrial track lighting overhead. The walls held a few decorative panels, but other than that, it was empty.

When Rose turned around to look at him, a question in her expression, he’d placed the other red rose between his teeth. He clapped his hands twice, briskly. Instantly, the opening strains of “Dreamweaver” began floating through the room and a shower of rose petals drifted down in a continuous rain around them.

Rose laughed as the Doctor began dancing through the petals, the flower still clenched in his teeth. He leapt and twirled in the air, almost like an ice skater (but with no ice), his arms joyfully outstretched. He’d been trying to emulate Romeo’s solo dance from the ballet, before Juliet comes down from the balcony to join him. Lots of happy jumping and leaping, it perfectly embodied just how Rose made the Doctor feel. He wasn’t sure if he captured it exactly, but what he lacked in form, he made up for in enthusiasm.

She clapped for him when the music came to an end and he gave her a theatrical bow with a grin around the flower stem. A few rose petals fell from his hair while he was bent over. He took the rose from his teeth and asked, “So, you liked it, then?”

“Immensely!” she said, coming to him. “But what does it mean? If all the rituals are symbolic, that is, maybe this is just the standard rose petal ritual…”

He chuckled. “Definitely not. This is copyright, one, the Doctor. This part of the ritual is where the suitor creates an interpretive dance in a shower of something indicative of their beloved. It’s to show that their feelings go beyond words.”

“That’s interesting,” she said, but wrinkled her nose. “What would I have to dance in, though? Stethoscopes? That would hurt!”

He shrugged. “What about plasters? They’re quite petal-like. I could see them fluttering down quite easily. Ooh! Or bandages! Coming down like streamers!”

She giggled. “Those are pretty good ideas, but…” She pursed her lips. “You being the ‘Doctor’ isn’t really who you are to me. That’s not what comes to mind when I think about you.” She fell silent for a few seconds, then her eyes lit up. “Can you give me a few minutes? If I ask the Tardis to help me, will she?”

“She absolutely will, you know the Tardis loves you,” he said, smiling. “But Rose, I’m the one courting _you_ , you don’t have to do any dancing for me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know that, you git, I don’t have to ‘do’ anything. I _want_ to.” Turning him at the shoulder, she pushed him toward the door. “Wait outside for a little while, us girls need to have a chat.”

Chuckling, he acquiesced and stood in the hall. However, he gave in to his impatience and sped up time in the room, so it was only a few seconds until Rose opened the door again with a smile on her face.

“Okay, you can come back.”

He took her hand and allowed her to pull him inside the room, which was darkened now, but he could see that the rose petals had all been cleared away. They moved to the center and she gave him a slightly nervous smile.

“Ready?” she asked.

He smiled back, certain he would enjoy anything she’d come up with. “Of course.”

Rose snapped the fingers of her free hand and instantly, a projection of the universe glowed to life around them. The opening bars to “In The Mood” began to play. Apparently, his fashion choices and hers had inspired more than just memories. His hearts swelled with love as Rose grabbed his other hand and began dancing with him, just like they had so long ago in the console room. It meant so much that she saw the universe in him, just as she encompassed the whole of his scope as well, the depth of it staggered him.

He swung her around jubilantly, delighting in her laughter, wondering how their lives might have been different, if he’d told her of his feelings the first time they’d danced to this song. Well, for starters, he was certain there would have been a lot more shagging. He couldn’t stop smiling, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so truly happy.

At the end of the dance, the Tardis showered them with silver confetti, like a meteor shower in the midst of their private universe. He crushed Rose to him and kissed her, holding her so close, he could almost reach his own ribs, wishing he could meld them together so that they were one being, so that neither of them would ever be alone again.

He cupped her face when he pulled back, emotion shining in his eyes. “I love you,” he said, his voice thick.

Her smile was dazzling. “I love you, too.”

When they went back to his bedroom, they found, to their surprise, that the Doctor’s bed had been covered in rose petals. They had to stop laughing before they could successfully get undressed.

Rose was gorgeous, spread out on top of the red petals, her skin luminous and creamy in contrast. As he knelt between her legs, pressing kisses to her thighs, he closed his eyes and remembered his time in his fifth body, how the Zero Room had always smelled like roses. When he tasted her intimately, licking and teasing her with his clever tongue as she thrashed beneath him, he knew now he’d always associate the scent of roses with the taste of Rose Tyler.


	7. A Gift That Encompasses The Depth Of Your Emotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and the Doctor exchange gifts and complete the Courtship Ritual, only to be given a gift that neither one of them were expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW!

Rose seemed to enjoy joining him for the Courtship Ritual, and coming up with a counterpart for each of the steps. They about laughed themselves silly during the trust walk, where they had to take turns blindfolding each other and leading them around a complicated maze that the Tardis designed for them. At each intersection, they would have to answer a question about the other, the correct answer leading to the right path. How they took their tea, where they grew up, their childhood nicknames, their favorite way to relax… The Doctor was stunned that Rose knew every answer. He knew he talked a lot, but generally assumed she tuned it out at some point. Apparently, she listened and absorbed more than she let on.

It took the Doctor quite some time to come up with the next part of the ritual. He had to give Rose a gift of some kind that represented all he felt for her and all he would feel for her, something that transcended past, present, and future.

Thinking of all that is, was, and would ever be, brought to mind her words as the Bad Wolf. How she had brought life, and how that was true not just in the literal sense for Jack, but in the figurative sense for him, as the sole remaining guardian of time.

He smiled as he thought of their dance among the stars that the Tardis had helped her create. Inspiration struck.

Briefly, he followed the timelines to see if there was any harm in going back in time to create the thing he had in mind. Since it didn’t involve anyone besides himself, no tangles were created and a manic grin spread across his face.

Letting loose with a triumphant “Ha!” he twirled around the console, sending them back, back, back, further into the past than he and Rose had ever gone before. He typed specifications into the Tardis and let her search for the optimum location to park herself in order to create his gift, then he ran down the corridor to his workshop and to about a dozen different storage rooms to collect what he would need. His mind was already racing ahead, making calculations on the various gaseous concoctions and bits of matter that would be required… and the end result would be _brilliant!_

* * *

When all was complete and ready, he nudged the Tardis to gently get Rose’s attention from wherever she was (she’d been disappearing for short periods lately and his ship had stubbornly refused to tell him where she’d gone). He was pleased that Rose and the Tardis had seemed to bond even further after the dancing ritual. Rose couldn’t hear his ship the way he could through a telepathic bond, but the time capsule was quite intelligent and found ways to make herself be understood by the human.

After a few minutes, Rose emerged from the corridor, wiping her hands on her jeans. He furrowed his brow slightly at her knees, which bore some grass and dirt stains. Had she been in the Tardis garden? He’d have to ask her later, he was too excited about what he was about to show her.

“Where are we?” she asked him with a smile.

He knew she also meant ‘when,’ so he said, “We are hovering near the constellation Monoceros, just after the creation of the Milky Way Galaxy. And I have a gift for you, just outside the doors.” He gestured to them. “Care to do the honors?”

She grinned and skipped down the ramp, waiting until he was beside her to open both doors of the Tardis. She gasped, her eyes going wide.

Framed perfectly in the doorway was a swirling red miasma, glittering with stars, the solar winds from the sparkling orbs forever blowing away the surrounding gas and dust, creating a beautiful, flower-like appearance.

“It’s the Rose Nebula,” he said, softly, never taking his eyes off of her. “I made it for you. It’s a star nursery, over ten thousand stars are held in its mass, endlessly creating life.” He put a hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him. “That’s what you do for me, Rose. You give me life, a reason and a purpose for being. I know it’s not exactly something tangible, as far as a gift, but--”

She cut him off by throwing herself into his arms, turning her face into his collar as she always did when they hugged. “It’s beautiful,” she said, in a wavering voice. “It’s the most amazing gift anyone could have ever gotten.”

He squeezed her tightly, pressing his lips to her hair. “I’m glad you like it.”

There was an understatement. He could never truly express how grateful he was to her, which was why he had to give her something more interminable, something eternal, which would exist long after either of them did. So that astronomers would forever be able to gaze upon the representation of his love for Rose and children would make wishes on its stars. In this way, their love would go on forever.

She pulled back, brushing a few tears from her cheeks. “Actually, I have something for you, too. The Tardis has been helping me.”

He chuckled. “I figured you were plotting something.”

“The thing is, though…” She hesitated, worrying her bottom lip. “I’m worried you might get upset. If I’ve misinterpreted her help, this could go completely pear-shaped.”

“I trust you and the Tardis,” he said, seriously.

She took a deep breath. “Can you take us to where Gallifrey used to be?”

He stiffened, his hearts skipping a beat. “Why?” he asked, at last.

“Not exactly there,” she clarified. “But nearby. In the constellation? A place where the ecosystem would be similar.”

He thought of the dirt on her jeans, wondering if it had something to do with this. “I-- I can have the Tardis search for someplace,” he stuttered, “in the Kasterborous constellation, yes. Rose--” He lifted a hand to her face, brushing away a lock of hair. His fingers were shaking. “Are you sure?”

He could see the nervousness in her eyes, but she nodded, so he closed the doors of the Tardis and went back to the console, setting a course for galactic coordinates 10-0-11-0-0 by 0-2 from Galactic Zero Centre, or thereabout. If his time ship was in on this, he knew she wouldn’t steer them into the Time Lock.

As he watched the readout on the monitor, he saw that she was aiming to land on one of the largest asteroids among the debris from the explosion. By the look of the rock’s makeup, it probably had once been a part of Fibster. The small planet had actually been a big asteroid to begin with, and the piece still remaining appeared habitable. The monitor showed atmosphere and natural life growing. It had been one of the other five planets making up the system, along with Gallifrey. It had been nearest to the fiery red Karn and the gas giant Polarfrey. But now, there was very little left of any of the planets in the constellation. Along with the dual suns that remained largely intact, this small piece of an asteroid was the largest bit of his home still suspended in space.

His hearts felt heavy as they materialized and the engines stopped. He didn’t know how long he stared into the time rotor. The next thing he knew, Rose was beside him, squeezing his arm, her expression full of compassion.

“We don’t have to do this,” she said.

“No,” he said. “You two have been up to something and I want to know what. I can--” He shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

She pressed her lips together. “Thank you for not saying you’re ‘always all right.’ You know that I know that’s bollocks, don’t you?”

“Yes, you were just always so good at letting me get away with it.”

She gave him a half smile. “All right, well… If you’ll close your eyes, I’ll get the Tardis to bring your present out here for me. It’s a bit heavy.”

He arched an eyebrow in confusion, but did as she asked. A moment later, a _clunk_ sounded as something ceramic hit the grating. When she told him it was all right to look, he opened his eyes again. It took him a few seconds to spot Rose’s gift, when he did, a rush of emotion flooded him.

A large clay pot sat next to the jump seat, in it was a young cadonwood sapling, shorter than waist high, it’s few silver leaves glistening in the light of the console room. He moved toward it, drawn by an invisible thread, and knelt on the floor, hardly feeling the grating digging into his knees. His mind whirled with memories of shining forests rising out of red grasses.

“The Tardis had one of these in the garden,” said Rose, softly. “We grew this new one from a clipping. I think it’s strong enough now to be planted. That’s why I asked for a similar ecosystem.”

He nodded, still staring at the little tree. It was a long time before he spoke. “Why--” He stopped, cleared his throat, and tried again. “Why did you choose this? As my gift?”

She crouched down beside him and he looked at her, knowing that everything he was feeling was showing on his face. “When you told me your planet was gone, that you were traveling on your own because there was no one left, what did I say?” she asked.

A little smile quirked the corner of his mouth, remembering their ‘first date.’ “You said ‘there’s me.’”

“That’s right.” She tilted her head at the tree. “That’s why this. I’d like to plant it here, if we can, because this is what we are. We’re building something new. Together.”

She’d stolen his words with her tenderness, so he pulled her into his arms, hoping the right way to express his gratitude for his remarkable human would come later. He stood up, taking her with him. “Come on, let’s go see if there’s a good spot for our tree,” he said, giving her a closed-mouth smile that only had the slightest bit of tightness in it.

He picked up the pot and carried it on his hip, using his other hand to hold Rose’s. She opened the doors for them to reveal a sprawling grassland with rolling crimson fields, dotted here and there with yellow flowers, under a sky of burnt umber. The grass wasn’t _exactly_ the right color, and there was only one small mountain range in the distance… but it was enough.

He pulled her close, kissing her desperately, letting his respiratory bypass take over when he couldn’t catch his breath. He didn’t realize there were tears falling from his eyes until she wiped them away.

Hand in hand, they walked a short while, just breathing the air, letting the hot, dry breeze warm them. Rose stopped when the Doctor did. He looked at the mountain in the distance, a small body of water shimmering in the opposite direction, and nodded.

“This is it.”

He pulled two hand trowels out of his bigger-on-the-inside jacket pocket, and they set to work, digging a good sized hole in the soft, dark soil. Together, they lifted the tree from its pot and transplanted it, patting the ground around it and feeding it from a water bottle (also from his pocket, he gave a second one to Rose, who’d begun to sweat in the heat from their work).

Lastly, he took out his sonic and scanned it, taking its readings to ensure it wasn’t traumatized from being moved and would grow on its own. He could also use the readings to check its progress when they came back.

And they _would_ come back. Because Rose was right. Their relationship was about moving forward, about making something beautiful out of the ashes of the past.

He took her hand again. They were both dirty, but it didn’t matter.

“Rose?”

“Yes, Doctor?”

“Will you bond with me?”

She looked from the tree to him. “What?”

He turned toward her. “The final step in the Courtship Ritual is to forge a telepathic bond. It means always feeling the other’s presence in our minds and sharing our thoughts and feelings if we’re touching. It’s the most intimate connection my species can make with someone.”

Her eyes were wide as she considered his offer. “And you want that with me?”

He swallowed and nodded. “It terrifies me, how much I want it. Because I don’t know how I’ll ever learn to do without it.” He didn’t want to stay on such a morbid topic as Rose’s shorter lifespan, however, so he said, “In Earth terms, I just asked if you would marry me.”

Her lips curved into a slow smile. Turning to him fully, she took his other hand and said, “Let’s do it. Here. Right now.”

He stopped himself from saying “In front of the tree?” That would have been silly. Normally, the Bonding Ceremony was a very solemn thing, involving a tea ceremony and ringing a series of little silver and crystal bells. Not that any of that really matter to him, but even so... “We’re a bit dirty,” he hedged. “Wouldn’t you rather get cleaned up first? Get into a nice soft bed?”

She took a step closer, dropping his hands to grab the lapels of his jacket and pull him down for a hungry kiss. The arousal that was always simmering below the surface lately flared to vibrant life. Suddenly, a bit of dirt was the last thing on his mind and he could think of nothing better than making love to Rose in the red grass, under that orange sky.

A mad scramble to get out of their clothes and then he was pressing her down, covering her with his body, kissing her, touching her, losing himself in her already. His hearts thrummed in excitement for what they were about to do. That space in his mind had been empty for so long, the prospect of having Rose’s presence there was enough to make him giddy. However, he retained enough sense to prop himself up on his elbows and look down at her seriously once more.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked. “It’s not like a human relationship, Rose. This is permanent.”

She smiled up at him. “Good.”

“Cheeky.”

“I’m serious.” She touched his face and he leaned into her hand. “I want this. I’m already yours. This is just one more part of that.”

Leaning in, he kissed her, then put his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. As he slid into her wetness, he slipped into her mind as well. She arced up toward him and called out. His low moan was an odd harmony to her high voice as they experienced the pleasure of joining their minds and bodies at the same time. For the Doctor, there was no greater bliss than knowing the touch of Rose’s thoughts, her essence. He let it wash over him. He wanted to wrap himself in it, that warm compassion that touched every part of her.

He felt her bright presence in his own mind, moving slowly at first, then faster as she learned. He quivered a bit, knowing she would see all he’d done in his long life, but he didn’t feel her withdraw from him at all. If anything, he felt a greater sense of acceptance and love. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised. Love was Rose’s greatest strength.

He kept moving until their minds were fully merged, so they could feel every slip and glide of their bodies, feel each other’s pleasure as if it was their own. Rose screamed out his name as she came, and the Doctor’s body trembled as the sensations passed between them, tipping him over into his own orgasm, which prolonged hers. The feelings moved back and forth until there was no telling whose belonged to whom. They were one. Fully bonded, merged by a million million tiny threads, tying them together for as long as they had.

And then he felt it. The burn of time. Golden tendrils reaching out for him from within Rose’s mind… as though they’d been waiting. Fear gripped him in an icy hand as he felt the flames spread, fast and unchecked, through Rose’s body. No… No! The Time Vortex! He’d thought he’d gotten all of it out of her, but apparently, a small piece of it had lain dormant. Had bonding with her woken it up? If so, it was his fault! He couldn’t bear to be the cause of Rose’s death. He’d gladly give up another regeneration to make up for his mistake.

He prepared to withdraw from her mind in order to repeat what he’d done before on the Game Station. Suddenly, he felt more than heard a wolf howling and it made him pause. Bad Wolf had seen all of time for a few moments… Had she seen this? Was this intentional? He delved more closely into what the golden light was doing to Rose. She wasn’t burning, she wasn’t in pain… But she was _changing_. He reached out further with his mind and saw that she was being altered at a cellular level. Almost like… regeneration.

But no. It was similar to what happened to him, but her body wasn’t becoming new, she still only possessed one heart. Her cells were renewing themselves at a remarkable rate, however. She wasn’t Time Lord, she wasn’t immortal, like Jack… She was something different. With her cells healing at this rate, though, her life span would lengthen considerably… No. It couldn’t be…

As the light receded, the Doctor gently pulled back from Rose’s mind and body, but stayed on top of her, holding her close, needing the connection to know that she was truly all right. He could feel her emotions swirling around through their bond, could sense her confusion.

Rose’s eyelids fluttered, her gaze taking a few seconds to focus on his face properly. “I heard… singing,” she said, softly. “Like before… on the Game Station.” She put a hand to her head. “And a voice, it was my voice, but… but it wasn’t. It was the Bad Wolf.”

“What did she say?” he asked, urgently.

“Something about… ‘the wolf will weather the storm’…” She shook her head. “It was more about… what the song made me feel than what the voice actually said. It felt like…” She blew out a breath, looking up at the sky to find the right way to articulate it. “Forever?” she said, squinting, obviously knowing it wasn’t the greatest description.

“Hmm,” he said, frowning. “I think we may need to do some tests before we say anything definitive. Some science to back up the mystical, if you please.”

She sighed as if greatly put-upon. “If we must.”


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor deals with the domestics that come with having a human bond mate, but finds that it's really not all that bad, not with Rose at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed, your kind words mean so much to me! I'm glad you enjoyed the story, I had a lot of fun writing it, even when it strayed away from being cracky and got emotional. 
> 
> This chapter is rated mature, for non-explicit mentions of shagging.

Hours and many tests in the med bay later, the Doctor confirmed what he’d seen while fully merged with Rose. Piecing together his results with what Rose had heard and felt at the time, they came to the conclusion that a piece of Bad Wolf had lain in wait inside Rose’s mind, on the possibility that the Doctor eventually chose to bond with her. Since time was mostly in flux, Rose would have stayed completely human if they hadn’t progressed in their relationship. When they bonded, the timeline where they chose to be together slid into place and Bad Wolf altered Rose accordingly.

Suddenly, the fear that came along with loving Rose all but evaporated. He’d only hesitated before because he knew that losing her would be infinitely worse once they were together. Now, barring fatal accidents, he could keep her for the rest of his lives. Ecstatic, they indulged in some celebratory shagging on the examination table. Afterward, she reminded him that avoiding fatal accidents was on both sides of their relationship. Now that she was faced with a long life, she wasn’t doing it without him, thank you very much.

Jackie insisted on a human wedding when they told her. Of course she did, she’d warned the Doctor as much during the first step of the Courtship Ritual. It would be a small affair, just family and close friends in the ‘rose petal room’ (as Rose had dubbed it) of the Tardis.

Rose asked Sarah Jane to be her matron of honor. The Doctor found Jack to apologize for leaving him behind and to ask him to be his best man. After fending off the man’s jubilant kisses and accepting his congratulations, the Doctor invited him on board for some explanations. Jack immediately kissed Rose, claiming it was his right as best man to kiss the bride. Rose stopped the Doctor from going ‘Oncoming Storm’ on the cheeky American, but the ‘hands off the blonde’ warning was repeated, with the Doctor pointing at his eyes with two fingers, then at Jack.

When they’d finished their story, and Jack had explained his circumstances as well, the three of them took a few moments to accept all that had happened between them. Bad Wolf had changed them all, really.

“I guess we’re… the ‘long life club’ now,” said Jack, attempting a smile.

“I’m so sorry, Jack,” said Rose, reaching for the man’s hand. “I mean, I’m not sorry you’re still alive, never that, but… to not be able to die, ever?”

“I know,” he said. “And I’m still aging, Bad Wolf didn’t fix that for me, like she did for you, I get the odd gray hair here and there.” He looked at the Doctor. “What’s gonna happen when I’m a million years old?”

The Doctor shook his head. “I really don’t know.”

Jack sighed. “Sorry, vanity. Can’t help it. I was a poster child, back in the Boeshane Peninsula, where I’m from. Tiny little place. I was the first one from there to join the Time Agency and they were so proud of me.” He smiled, nostalgically. “‘The Face of Boe,’ they called me.”

The Doctor choked and Rose’s eyes went wide. “What?” she exclaimed. She and the Doctor looked at each other, then burst into laughter.

“What? What is it?” Jack asked, confused.

“I think we have another story to share with you!” said Rose, grinning as she caught her breath. “Did we never talk about our first date back when we all traveled together?”

Jack shook his head.

Rose got up from her chair and headed for the doorway. “I’ll fix us something to drink, I think we’re gonna need it…”

* * *

A year after their wedding, the Doctor and Rose returned to ‘New Gallifrey’ to celebrate their anniversary. Their tree was taller and thicker, and they noticed new sprouts on the ground surrounding it, the beginnings of new cadonwood trees.

They exchanged cards, since the first anniversary was the ‘paper’ anniversary. Rose smiled at the pop-up card the Doctor had made her, covered in stickers and glitter-glue. Inside was a piece of psychic paper for Rose to keep as her own.

“I couldn’t decide what to write,” he admitted. “So, I went and picked this up for you. That way, the message can change, depending.”

She looked down and saw words appearing on the white card in the Doctor’s handwriting, “I am always, will always be, your Doctor.”

She’d spent hours cutting out little pieces of paper, to make the front of her card look like the outside of the Tardis. Inside, she’d written “From ‘Run,’ to ‘Forever.’ All my love, Rose.”

And since their tree was larger now, the Doctor took the opportunity to shag Rose up against the trunk, hitching her leg up over his hip. Afterward, she remarked that the bark was a good deal softer than the trees of Earth. The Doctor made a comment about Time Lords not being the only superior thing from Gallifrey.

On their next anniversary, they went back, only to discover that the Doctor had accidentally landed them one hundred years into the future, instead of a single year. Instead of just their tree and maybe some saplings, they were met with an entire silver leafed forest. It seemed to glow in the light of the suns, shimmering as the wind blew through the branches.

His breath caught in his throat. Rose wrapped her arms around his waist and he leaned down, kissing the top of her head.

“Best gift ever.”

It wasn’t hard to find their tree. It was the biggest and tallest, right in the center. The Doctor indulged in a bit of vandalism and used the sonic to carve their names into the base of the trunk, assuring Rose that the setting he used wouldn’t hurt it. He wrote in circular Gallifreyan, but told her what it said:

_The Doctor_   
_+_   
_Rose Tyler_   
_Forever_


End file.
